Opportunities
by xxAzure-Wingsxx
Summary: AU - Fuji arrives in New York after a long flight and takes a taxi to a nearby hotel, all the while trying to engage his taciturn driver in a conversation and learn more about the other. His attempts unfortunately, only serve to drive the latter crazy.


Title: Opportunities  
Characters/Pairings: Tezuka, Fuji, Tezuka/Fuji  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: AU, Humour, Romance  
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis never was and never will be mine  
Summary: Fuji arrives in New York after a long flight and takes a taxi to a nearby hotel, all the while trying to engage his taciturn driver in a conversation and learn more about the other. His attempts unfortunately, only serve to drive the latter crazy.

A/N: This is an AU fic and I shall not pretend to even know much of the places in Japan so the places I will be mentioning would be either in America or UK (I don't even know much of those places either woe is upon me D8) Once again, don't be afraid to leave any comments and critiques here after reading the fic; I would love to hear what everyone thinks about it! ^^

Also, **tacuma811** here's the long awaited birthday fic I promised you! I decided to work on a different prompt since the inspiration I had for the one you gave me has long since died out ; Maybe I will try my hand at it again for next year's bday fic? Wrote this in six hours (epic fail I know, I was kinda distracted and got stuck here and there trying to work out the awkward phrasings and decide how I wanted to continue the story) and the word count's not even 3k!DDD= My NaNo prospects are not looking good at all...orz

Placing his suitcase down on the clean, sparkling floor beside him, Fuji extended his hands up towards the ceiling in a stretch as he worked the kinks in his neck and body that had accumulated during his flight from London to New York out. He hadn't gotten much sleep on the plane as he was rushing out the manuscript for his latest novel; the deadline was today and after much frantic typing on his VAIO laptop, he had managed to complete the document and send it on its merry way to his editor. Now all he wanted to do was find a hotel, get a room and knock out on a soft and comfortable bed for eight hours.

Pulling out a printout from his bag, he studied the list of hotel names on the paper, scanning for one that wasn't too expensive but not too shabby either. "Thank God I had the wisdom to do some research beforehand', the brunette thought to himself as he scrolled through addresses before finally deciding on a four star hotel near the airport. Walking through the motion sensor sliding doors of the airport, the young novelist stride purposefully towards the taxi stand located right outside where an unengaged taxi was currently waiting. Placing his suitcase into the boot of the car where it belonged, Fuji opened one of the back doors of the taxi and got in.

"Please take me to Sheraton Hotel JFK Airport," the petite man spoke confidently as he settled back into his seat and took the time to examine his driver as well as the inner furnishings of the taxi he now sat in. With a curt nod, the man sitting in front of the driving wheel stepped on the gas pedal and slowly maneuvered the car out onto the road before shifting up to second gear upon hitting the main road.

His driver looked to be in his mid thirties with a mop of messily arranged hazel brown straight hair set on his head and a pair of rectangular spectacles sat on the bridge of the man's nose. He had a pair of amber eyes that stared at one with much intensity and which seemed to glow faintly; Fuji rubbed his eyes a little, thinking that perhaps he really did need the rest after all if he was starting to hallucinate. Satisfied with what information he had gleaned from staring at the man's face, his eyes travelled downwards as he took in the rest of the man's body as well as attire.

What he saw made him smile; his driver obviously worked out quite a bit judging from the way his white dress shirt folded and creased about the curves of the his muscles, quite unlike the rounded pot bellied men who he was used to seeing in this line of work. "He doesn't smoke either," the novelist gave a little nod of approval as he sniffed a little but smelled none of the tobacco scent that frequently pervaded other taxis, only detecting a pleasant fragrance that lingered about the interior.

He was unable to put a name to its essence and a shrewd guess told him that it was probably did not come from any type of perfume but rather, was the natural scent that emanated from the driver's body. The hands that held the steering wheel and occasionally moved to shift the gear either up or down were marked by numerous calluses, most of them located at the joints where fingers met the palm. It told him a little more about the driver suggesting that the man played a racket sport, frequently enough to acquire such markings; that would also explain the state of fitness he observed as well as those muscles.

Well aware that he had made no attempt to conceal his study of the driver, he finished his examination with a quick glance, running his eyes from top to toe before catching an annoyed look from the driver cast at the rear view mirror that was meant for him. Schooling his features to assume the usual façade he showed the world, he looked at the mirror and gave it a close eyed smile to which he heard a soft but audible disgruntled sigh. It was going to be a long ride.

_**~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~**_

"May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?" the honey brown haired novelist finally spoke up, unable to resist the urge that prompted him to speak, his curiosity refusing to be satisfied until it knew more about the other man. _I wonder why._

Silence greeted his question and just when he was about to give up on expecting an answer, a deep voice answered, "I should think that one ought to volunteer one's own name first before enquiring after another's but I suppose that this way of manners is probably foreign to you." "Oh dear, where are my manners indeed. I am Fuji Syuusuke," he hurriedly offered before giving the other a curious glance. "I didn't know you were Japanese too," he voiced, an unspoken question hidden in the way he phrased his words. _What is a person like you doing here driving a taxi?_

"How odd, my parents and those who know me have often said how I could not be mistaken for any other nationality but Japanese," his driver commented in a dry, humorless tone. _I think I can understand the reason why they said that, though it was probably meant as a joke. I have to admit that now that you said it, you really do resemble the noble samurai of old, stern, unyielding and rather dashing. Goodness knows why I didn't realize it earlier; I suppose I was too engrossed in ogling- I mean observing you._ Giving himself a mental slap for the weird thought, he shifted his attention back to the other man. "I am Tezuka Kunimitsu, pleased to meet you." _I somehow doubt the sincerity of those last words though I bet you probably said that only to be polite. How amusing._

"So, Tezuka, may I know the reason why you are here in New York since I assume you were not originally born here? Also, I do not mean to offend you but why choose this line of work? There are plenty other occupations that I think that would probably suit you more don't you agree? You seem like a man who could easily be seen seating in an executive's chair, looking down from the skyscraper where your office is located at."

"Asking such questions immediately on your first meeting, are you always like that?" Tezuka arched an eyebrow, a little surprised and annoyed at the same time. Taciturn by nature, he had disliked speaking more than he had to from young and the petite man's questions were anything but discreet.

"I am usually not so direct but for some reason, I can't help but be curious this time round. I want to know more about you," he gave the other a smile, this time with his eyes wide open and Tezuka could not help but notice how stunningly blue those eyes were. Hiding his discomfort by shifting his eyes back to the road in front of him quickly as the traffic light turned red, he did not answer, choosing to remain silent and focus on his driving instead while organizing his thoughts.

Fuji was perfectly willing to wait, patience was one of his fortes and to tell the truth, he had to admit that he enjoyed the silence. It was not uncomfortable, nor was it tense like what he had expected. Finally, Tezuka cleared his throat and spoke. "I am actually a sports journalist for the magazine Star Sports. As the headquarters are based here, I shifted here from Japan 5 years back when I took up the job. I travel around fairly often but whenever I am back in the city, I rent a taxi from one of the agencies; I have a friend working in there who helps me get hold of one whenever I need it."

"I find it pointless to buy a car myself since I spend most of my time out and abroad; it would be easier to just rent a taxi as a mode of transport to get about the city while at the same time, help out my friend a little as well by fetching some customers for him." _Why am I even explaining all this to you? You are more trouble than I had expected. It seems like I made a mistake picking you up, I should never have accepted your request to fetch you to Sheraton Hotel JFK Airport. _The stoic man cursed himself for being so stupid. _I wonder if there's any way of throwing him out of the taxi, never mind the wastage of fuel and loss of the trip's fare…_

"Interesting, I figured from the calluses on your hand and the muscles that you played sports but I never thought of that particular occupation. So, what sport do you play?" he enquired. "Tennis," the taller man replied and Fuji noticed with a little jot of surprise that wistfulness had somehow crept into the man's voice. _He loves playing tennis. _"Why didn't you pursue a career as a professional tennis player if you enjoy tennis so much?"

"I injured my dominant playing arm back in Junior High and after two to three years of rigorous training and playing, I had to give up on my dream of becoming one because my doctor warned me that placing any further strain on my left arm would destroy it beyond repair." There was a twinge of sadness and bitterness now in the words he spoke and Fuji felt embarrassed for dragging up what must have been a painful past. "I am sorry to hear that," the petite novelist apologized sincerely.

"It's alright, I am still able to play now and given how things could have turned out worse, I am grateful that tennis was not taken away from me. Those glorious days of competing against highly skilled players of the same age as me in the Nationals are over and now I am content with simply being able to hold a tennis racket and hit a ball, even if my skills are no longer what they were." Tezuka shrugged and the taxi fell back into silence as each one drifted off into contemplation.

_**~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~**_

After a few minutes of uneasy silence, Fuji, realizing that it was his fault for bringing up such a depressing topic and creating such an awkward atmosphere, quickly began to share about his own life and the quirks that came with being a novelist and was finally rewarded for his efforts in trying to salvage the situation when he heard a dry chuckle from the other man and even managed to wheedle a smart retort out of him.

As he listened to Fuji recount in a woeful manner of sleepless nights passed in front of the computer furiously typing away as he rushed to make the looming deadlines set by his slave driver of an editor, Tezuka realized as he thought about things how he had grown to enjoy hearing the other man's voice; the headache that had been building up since morning had also mysteriously vanished and he actually found himself in a relatively amiable mood (he supposes somehow a little of his passenger's cheerfulness had rubbed off him).

The frown on his face had eased up (partly caused by the headache, partly from habit) and he no longer felt like abandoning Fuji to be stranded in the middle of some random highway as he previously had been inclined to do at the start the journey; that was definitely an improvement.

Fuji grinned with satisfaction upon spotting the oh so infinitesimal smile that only his sharp eyes could have caught; not that he didn't miss the little twinkle of mirth evident in those hazel brown eyes. His suspicion was confirmed; under that cold grouchy exterior laid a personality that drew him, just like a butterfly is drawn to the light of a flame.

"You are pretty handsome even when frowning but I think you look more dashing when you smile," the smiling novelist said in a conversational tone like as if he talking about the weather or something else trivial.

Tezuka's left eye twitched and he blinked, a blank look on his face. Fuji chuckled, amused by the man's reaction.

"Correct me if I am wrong but did you just hit on me?" the stoic man said, his voice lacking a single trace of emotion.

"If you are free after this, what do you say about a cup of coffee? I know of a place in the vicinity that brews a really good cup," the smiling man continued as if he had not heard Tezuka's question.

"You are hitting on me," the taller man said again as if he couldn't really believe it and was saying it out like as if it was some form of confirmation and he was attempting to process the information and come to terms with it.

"Hmm, you caught on pretty quickly; I guess my prediction about having to kiss you to get the point across was incorrect. I really wanted to give you that kiss though," the honey brown haired man pouted for a moment before his eyes lit up again and Tezuka got an uneasy feeling.

Before he could act upon the gut feeling that had sprung up, telling him the other was up to no good, he found himself caught in the uncomfortable position of being kissed with his neck craned around towards the back of the taxi. His mind went blank at that moment, his body on autopilot and he instinctively did what his heart wanted to do and kissed back.

Seeing that the stoic man was responding, Fuji's heart gave a little leap of happiness and he increased the fervor in which he attacked the other man's mouth, conveying all his feelings and emotions in one swift go. Only the lack of oxygen could force them to break apart and they withdrew, both panting from the intensity of the kiss. Fuji smugly took in the sight of a blushing Tezuka and admired the swollen rosy red lips that he had just being kissing but a second ago.

"I take it our coffee date is on?"

"...hnn"

~neverending love~


End file.
